Darkening Down
by Koneko no Miko
Summary: *FINISHED* What exactly happened before James received the letter that brought him to Silent Hill? MASSIVE SPOILERS if you haven't played the game.
1. the wish

DISCLAIMER: Silent Hill 2 and its characters are the copyrighted property of Konami; everything else is copyrighted to me. This is written out of pure love for and obsession with this series, and I'm not making a dime from this story.  
  
//Words between slashes// connote thoughts.  
  
The timeframe in this story jumps around a lot, but hopefully it shouldn't be too difficult to follow.  
  
  
  
CHAPTER ONE/PROLOGUE: the wish  
  
  
  
"James?  JAMES?"  
  
He woke abruptly, her voice slicing through his dreamless sleep.  Before him, the TV had gone to a static pattern, the show he had been watching long since over and forgotten.  
  
"Ja---" She was interrupted by ragged coughing.  
  
Quickly he stood up, and raced down the hall to the spare bedroom where his wife's hospital bed had been set up.  He flipped on the light switch to see Mary desperately clawing at the bedside table, trying to reach the carafe of water he'd left there for her.  He poured a glass for her and tenderly lifted it to her lips.   
  
She swallowed most of the liquid and then promptly knocked the glass out of his hands, sending it to the floor.  
  
"Mary!" he gasped.  
  
"It took you long enough," she hissed.  "Jesus Christ!  I'm sorry my illness is so *inconvenient* for you."  She spat the words out like a bad- tasting medicine.  
  
"Mary, I'm sorry.  I was asleep and---"  
  
"Yeah, whatever," she muttered, curling up on her side, facing away from him.  Her voice thickened with tears.  "Your husbandly duty is over.  Go back to your own bed."  
  
"Why don't you just die and leave me alone?" he whispered, too low for her to hear.  Instantly ashamed, he turned off the light and backed out of the room. 


	2. the fall

DARKENING DOWN  
  
~by Koneko no Miko~  
  
CHAPTER 2: the fall  
  
  
  
The first time he met Mary, he knew he would make her his wife someday.  
  
He was walking across campus, and in the distance he saw a woman sitting on a bench, her legs crossed demurely at the ankle.  The autumn leaves were falling, creating a multicolored carpet that crunched under his feet as he walked.  Despite the noise, she didn't seem to hear him as he approached, and she stood up and stretched her arms over her head.  James couldn't help noticing how her pink cardigan stretched invitingly over her chest, and the dreamy expression on her pretty face.  He had never been very good at talking to girls, and he was trying to formulate the perfect pick-up line when she noticed him and let out a little shriek, her hand flying up as if to protect her heart.  
  
"Oh!  I--I'm sorry," James stammered.  "I didn't mean to startle you."  
  
"No, that's okay," she said, and when she smiled sweetly he knew he was a goner.  "I was off in my own little world, just thinking."  
  
"What were you thinking about?" James asked, emboldened.  
  
"Oh, it sounds so stupid."  She ducked her head down and looked at him shyly from under her eyelashes.  
  
"No, come on, tell me."  
  
"Well, I was just looking at all of these leaves and thinking how fun it would be to make a pile and jump in them, like I used to when I was a kid."  
  
"What's stopping you?"  
  
She laughed.  "Oh, I don't know...getting my clothes messy, looking like a dork."  
  
James bent down and started gathering leaves into his arms, making a small mound of them at her feet. Standing up and brushing his hands off on his thighs, he walked away and called to her, "Fear not, milady, I shall lead the way!"  
  
"You're not really going to---"  
  
"But I am," he hollered gleefully. "So you'd better move!"  
  
She obliged and stepped to the side, laughing as James ran towards her and flung himself dramatically into the pile.  
  
"You're crazy," she said, not without a trace of admiration.  
  
"I have paved the way to dorkdom," James said. "Now it's your turn, uh. . ."  
  
"Mary."  
  
"Mary," he repeated. "Go on!"  
  
"Will you break my fall?" she asked, and suddenly blushed crimson.  
  
"I promise," he said, and she ran from him, laughing, and circled her way back, waving her arms at her sides and making airplane noises. She leaped into the pile and landed flat on her ass, taking her breath away and causing her to go into a coughing fit.  
  
"Are you okay?" James asked. With trembling fingers, he picked shreds of leaf from her shoulders.  
  
Mary brushed the hair out of her eyes and smiled. "I'm fine. I'm fine now." 


	3. the promise

DARKENING DOWN  
  
~by Koneko no Miko~  
  
CHAPTER 3: the promise  
  
"Are you taping again?  Come on," Mary sighed, waving a hand at James.  
  
"I just want to capture your beauty, dear," he said, not taking his eye from the video camera's viewfinder.  
  
"Nice cover," she laughed, coming over and placing a kiss on the top of his head.  "I know you really just want to fool around with your new toy."   
  
"No, what I'd really like to fool around with is you..." he said slyly, setting the video camera down.  
  
"Oh...?" Mary asked, a faint blush tinging her cheeks.  Even after years of marriage, Mary still became slightly embarrassed by anything related to sex.  
  
James walked over to her and entwined his fingers in her hair. "Is that all you can say, 'oh'?" he teased, kissing the tip of her nose.  
  
She smiled up at him, and he unbuttoned her sweater and gently pushed her down on the bed. He trailed kisses down her neck, and hooked his fingers under her bra straps, pushing them down. She flung an arm across her eyes.  
  
"I wish you would look at me, Mary," James murmured. "Can't you look at me?"  
  
She moved her arm and raised her head from the pillow. "I'm sorry…" The glint of light against the lens of the video camera caught her eye and she sat up suddenly. "That thing is OFF, right?"  
  
"No, why? Don't you want an extra-special souvenir?"  
  
"James, that's not funny. Go put the lens cap on."  
  
Grumbling, he stood up and strode to the table, jamming the lens cap so hard he almost cracked it. "There. Satisfied?"  
  
"Not yet," she purred, and startled, he turned to look at her. She'd removed her panties and was dangling them from one finger.  
  
"Who are you and what have you done with my wife?" James asked, only half- joking.  
  
"Well, you're right…we've been married for almost two years now and I think I need to loosen up a little." Mary slid her hands down her thighs and, gripping her knees, she spread her legs apart. "Maybe you can help me with this resolution?"  
  
James pounced upon her, grabbing her wrists and pinning her against the mattress. He knew he was being rougher than usual, but he was so excited by her unusual behavior that he couldn't help himself. She cried out when he entered her, and her nails gripped his shoulders painfully.  
  
"Oh…James…stop."  
  
He nuzzled her neck, continuing to thrust inside of her.  
  
"JAMES!" she screamed, pushing him away. "STOP!"  
  
"What's wrong?" he asked, alarmed to see tears welling up in her eyes.  
  
"My chest…it hurts…" she moaned, turning her head and coughing violently.  
  
"Sweetheart," he whispered, lightly trailing his fingers over her heart. "I'm so sorry. Do you need me to call the front desk, see if they have a doctor here?"  
  
"No…no…I'll be okay. Just…just shift your weight a little…"  
  
James rested on his elbows and continued, but his mind was elsewhere. He was worried about Mary, and his shoulders hurt where she had clawed him, and he wasn't sure he could even finish. He thought of a bachelor party he'd recently been to for one of his coworkers. The stripper wore nothing but a choker, boots, and a smile, and she'd seemed to take a special fancy to James. Thinking of her, he managed to finish, and he rolled off Mary.  
  
She turned and smiled faintly at him, pushing sweaty tendrils of hair out of her eyes. "I love you, James."  
  
"I love you too, Mary," he said, cupping her chin in his hand and giving her a small kiss.  
  
She stood up and he reached for her, to pull her back in bed with him, but she had already started dressing again.  
  
"Mary?"  
  
Mary stepped into her floral skirt and went to the window, flinging open the drapes. The sun was shimmering on Toluca Lake, and she sighed happily. "Ah, I don't know why, but I just love it here. It's so peaceful." She rested her chin on her hand for a moment. "Know what I heard? This whole area used to be a sacred place."  
  
"Yeah, I thought I saw that in one of the brochures."  
  
"I think I can see why." She dreamily regarded the pink-streaked sky, then turned to James. "It's too bad we have to leave. Please promise you'll take me again, James."  
  
"Wouldn't you rather go to Paris?  Or Bermuda?  Or somewhere a little more exotic?"  
  
Mary looked hurt.  "I thought you were having a good time here."  
  
"I am, sweetheart," James said quickly.  "But Silent Hill isn't exactly the most...*exciting* place."  
  
"It was pretty exciting when you almost lost your lunch on that roller coaster!"  
  
"God, don't remind me...I'm turning green just remembering that," James groaned.  
  
Mary laughed and turned her face back towards the window.  "Maybe we can try Paris next year...but I want you to promise you'll bring me back here someday.  It's really important to me.  I don't know why, I just feel like I'm meant to be here."  
  
James looked at Mary, silhouetted against the setting sun, and his heart felt as though it would overflow with his love for her.  Although there hadn't been much to entertain him in Silent Hill, he'd enjoyed watching Mary have such a good time.  She'd wanted to go on every ride at the amusement park, and begged him to win her an enormous stuffed elephant, which she'd promptly given to a crying little girl who'd dropped her ice cream cone.  She squealed with delight when she accidentally set off the ornate fairy tale music box in the hotel lobby, and she'd drunk too much wine with dinner one night, so he'd been forced to carry her upstairs.  She'd wrapped her arms sleepily around his neck, and murmured "I love you," and when they reached the room he tucked her into bed.  Sometimes he felt more like her father than her husband, because she could act like a grown- up kid at times, but he couldn't imagine things any other way, and there was little he could refuse her.  
  
"If antiquing and amusement parks are what the lady desires, then that is what the lady will have," James said, bowing gallantly.  
  
"M-my hero," Mary said, breaking into a coughing fit.  
  
"Are you okay, honey?  I'm starting to get a little worried about that cough of yours."  
  
"I'll be fine.  Let's go down to the Venus Tears; maybe a glass of wine will help soothe this tickle in my throat."  
  
"Seriously, Mary, I want you to promise that you'll see Dr. Lerner when we get home."  Mary narrowed her eyes at him, and James said, "Please humor a nervous husband, okay?"  
  
"Okay, I promise," she said, picking up her purse.  "NOW can we go get that glass of wine?" 


	4. the sin

CHAPTER 4: the sin  
  
James sat down at the edge of Mary's bed and watched her laborious struggle for every breath.Â  She had gotten so thin that he could see her ribs through the inappropriately-cheerful pink pajamas she wore.  
  
"Where am I?" she rasped, turning her head on the pillow to look at him.Â   
  
"You're home, darling," he said, using his thumb to wipe the dried mucus from the corners of her eyes.Â  "Remember?Â  The doctor said you could come home for a short stay."  
  
She laughed, a harsh sound with no trace of mirth in it.Â  "We both know what THAT means."  
  
"Mary...please.Â  Please, darling, don't talk that way."  
  
A tear crawled down her face.Â  "Oh, James...I want it to be over.Â  I hurt so much.Â  It hurts so much."  
  
James swallowed against the lump in his throat.Â  "I know."  
  
"No you don't.Â  You have no idea how much it hurts," she said, turning her face back towards the ceiling.Â  "Just something as simple as talking hurts me."  
  
"Then don't talk!" he cried, clasping her hand in his, feeling the thin brittle bones just beneath her skin.Â   
  
"I have to," she whispered.Â  "I have to tell you how it feels.Â  Like someone opened me up and filled me with boiling water...I want it to stop, James.Â  I don't want to leave you, but I want the pain to stop."  
  
James lifted her hand to his and kissed it.Â  Her skin felt like paper against his lips.Â  Her wedding band shone dully in the dim light.Â   
  
"I want you to have your life back...I want to go to sleep and not wake up..."  
  
"I know, darling."  
  
"Stop saying you KNOW!" she cried.Â  "You don't know anything!"  
  
He stood and pushed the chair behind him.Â  "Try and get some sleep," he muttered.Â  He had just reached the door when he heard her whimpering behind him.  
  
"James...please don't leave me...don't go.Â  I love you, I'm sorry, please.Â  I don't want to be alone.Â  Please."  
  
He returned to her bedside and she smiled weakly at him.Â  "I love you."  
  
"I love you too, Mary," he whispered, and bent to kiss her forehead.Â   
  
//do it do it now//  
  
//NO.//  
  
//now!//  
  
On the floor lay a pillow she'd knocked from the bed during her restless sleep.Â  He bent to pick it up, and saw that it was one of the pillows she'd embroidered in the hospital, before the pain got too bad for her to do anything more than cry.Â  In the center was an outline of a house, and in the middle read "GOD BLESS OUR HAPPY HOME".  
  
//I can't.//  
  
//Get your life back.Â  Make her pain stop.Â  Do it, you fucking coward, do it for her if nothing else.//  
  
He turned the pillow over in his hands, over and over again.Â  Mary began coughing again, and a thin trickle of blood and saliva dribbled down her chin.  
  
"I love you," he whispered again, and brought the pillow over her face.  
  
She made a muffled cry under the pillow, and began thrashing with a strength he thought she'd lost long ago, fighting for whatever little bit of life she had left.Â  He leaned into the pillow with all of his weight.  
  
"I love you, I love you, I love you," he moaned, over and over again, like a litany.  
  
He didn't know how long it took her to die, but in those few moments, all he could remember was the look on her face when he'd lifted her wedding veil, so full of joy and hope, a woman who thought her whole life lay ahead of her, not knowing she had less than a decade left, unaware she'd die at the hands of the man she was kissing, die wrapped in sour-smelling sheets.  
  
Finally, her back arched and slammed against the mattress.Â  The acrid smell of urine filled the air.Â  He fell to his knees, and put his ear over her heart.  
  
Nothing.  
  
James let out a howl of primal agony.Â  "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I love you, I'm so sorry!" he wailed.  
  
Mary's blue eyes, the color of faded denim, were already beginning to dull over.Â   
  
//Would our child have had your eyes?//  
  
With trembling fingers, as though pulling down a windowshade, he closed her eyes. 


	5. the letter

James sat at the kitchen table, resting his head on his folded arms.  
  
//Three years. Three years today she's been gone.//  
  
He lifted his head just enough to survey the kitchen. He remembered what pride Mary had taken in the little room, painting it bright yellow, making sure the dishes in the glass-fronted cabinets were lined up just so. He remembered the first meal she'd cooked for him when they'd gotten back from their honeymoon in Silent Hill---pot roast with baby potatoes and Yorkshire pudding, if memory served him right. He'd tiptoed up behind her and grabbed her ass, and she'd let out a whoop of surprise and dropped the measuring cup she'd been holding. He'd untied her apron strings and hiked her dress up above her waist and taken her right there, in the puddle of spilled milk and flour, and in their passion she'd forgotten about the food. No matter; the burned edges were easily cut away, and he loved how she wrapped her legs around his back, abandoning her perfect untouchable housewife persona for one wild hour.  
  
Angrily, he scrubbed at his eyes.  
  
//You have no right to miss her, you fuck, you killed her.//  
  
A soft whispering sound made him sit up, startled, and he realized it was just the mail being dropped through the slot in the kitchen door. Leaning over as far as he could, he managed to grab the mail without tipping over his chair.  
  
"Bill...bill...crappy catalog...bill..." James stopped when he saw a plain white envelope addressed in block letters. "What's this?" He turned it over, checking for a return address in vain. Although it was at least eighty degrees in the sunny kitchen, he felt an icy trickle slide down his spine when he saw Mary's name written in cursive at the bottom of the envelope. With trembling fingers, he ripped it open and withdrew a single sheet of paper.  
  
//In my restless dreams, I see that town...Silent Hill.  
  
You promised you'd take me there again someday, but you never did.  
  
Well, I'm alone there now...  
In our special place...  
Waiting for you.//  
  
"W-what kind of sick fucking joke *is* this?" he whispered. "Who could..."  
He went to the liquor cabinet and withdrew a bottle of whiskey, taking a slug straight from the bottle in an effort to calm his nerves. He waited before the warmth spread through his body before daring to reread the letter.  
  
"This is definitely Mary's handwriting," James said hoarsely. "But how? Maybe she mailed it before she died?"  
  
//Idiot. Not even the U.S. Post Office is *that* slow.//  
  
Sitting back down, he stared intently at the envelope, half-expecting it to vaporize in his hands. He checked the postmark, but it was too smudged to make out the date.  
  
James took another drink of whiskey and remembered the weeks following Mary's death. There had been an autopsy, but her body was so ravaged by the disease that nobody doubted it had killed her. Nobody suspected the grieving, handsome young husband with the dark circles under his eyes, holding a tattered vacation photo of Mary and talking about her to anyone who would listen.  
  
Or at least, he *thought* nobody suspected him.  
  
At Mary's funeral, her doctor came up to James, and he mentally prepared himself for another barrage of platitudes. //Will it be "She was so young," or "She was such a wonderful woman"?// James thought wryly. //Or perhaps that perennial favorite, "She's in God's hands now"? Yeah, well, where the hell was God when she was suffering so much?//  
  
Dr. Lerner leaned in close and said, "Mr. Sunderland, I think I know what really happened."  
  
James shrank back in horror. "Excuse me?"  
  
"And I want you to know that I understand, and if anyone ever found out the truth, I would never testify against you. Morally, I can't condone what you did, but I certainly understand why, and in the end I think it was an act of love."  
  
"I---"  
  
"But mark my words, Mr. Sunderland, you will pay for what you did. You may never spend a single second in jail, but you will wind up punishing yourself. One way or another, you will pay for what you did." There was no trace of righteous indignation or judgment in Dr. Lerner's voice, just a sad resignation. He squeezed James' shoulder, then walked away.  
  
James shook his head to clear it of the memory and drained the whiskey bottle. He stood and went to the bedroom he'd shared with Mary. Opening the closet door, he reached up and took his suitcase off the shelf, knocking a pillow down in the process. He bent down to pick it up and turned it over.  
  
GOD BLESS OUR HAPPY HOME.  
  
Tears filled his eyes and scalded his cheeks as they spilled over. "Oh baby," he sobbed, picking it up and hugging it tightly to his chest. He thought he could still smell the rose-scented shampoo she always used, as well as the sour tang of her illness. He hadn't wanted the pillow on their bed, serving as a constant reminder of his crime, but he couldn't bring himself to throw it away either.  
  
//Maybe it is a sick joke. Maybe it's a mistake. But no matter what, I have to go to Silent Hill and find out for sure.//  
  
"Mary," he whispered. "Could you really be in that town?"  
  
Behind him, something started to skitter out of the shadows but retreated back into the darkness, biding its time.  
  
~THE END~  
  
...for NLC 


End file.
